Let the Water Rain Down: A Whouffle Fanfic
by knittingFamine
Summary: The TARDIS decides to play a clever trick on The Doctor: she turns all the water off. And The Doctor, grimy and gross from battle, goes to the only place he's guaranteed a shower: Clara Oswald's rickety apartment. However, Clara has some bigger problems to worry about then her naked Doctor in her bathroom; She has a date!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay I refuse to think that Whouffle is over. I will probably ship it until my death. So. Yeah. I was honestly unaware that it was possible to feel so many emotions at the same time, equally. Excited and depressed and sad and giddy. Oh lovely. Why did I start watching a show that changes main characters every few years. Whyyyyyyy.**

**I do suppose though, you'll probably want to know when this takes place. It's somewhere between the 50th episode and the Christmas Special. ****Anyway I hope you enjoy this.**

**Character rights of the wondrous Doctor and his lovely companion Clara Oswald belong to the BBC. But the story is mine. Thank you.**

**~Matteo :33**

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The TARDIS had run out of hot water. Which was basically, the TARDIS had run out of water in general. This wasn't an irregularity and The Doctor, with his arrogance and suave nature, would have usually brushed it off his shoulder, but he was in a bit of a pickle. By a bit, he meant a lot. And by a lot, he literally meant, there was grime covering his whole body, his whole suit, sinking into every kink and crevice that his body had. But of course, he had brought that upon himself.

The Moon of Kipland had been more than he had bargained for. And not just in the beauty of the women that he encountered there (if you could call them women). But how they had seemed to change into whatever you desired in life. Some men had said that the ladies turned into gold, for that was what they desired most in life, others their childhood friends and even others to-well it was a long list. The Doctor was simply there for one reason. He was curious.

He wanted to see who would show up as his most desired.

It could have been any of his companions. Rose with her snarky smile and eyes like the brightest blue skied day in autumn. Martha, her hair pulled back tightly, a look of determination written across her face. Donna, one of his ginger companions (why wasn't he ever ginger?), with her lacking in memory and fullness in sass. Amy and Rory, who had fallen together, and loved each other to the bitter end. He smiled just thinking about a few of them.

And-of course-there was Clara.

Beautiful Clara with her pointy chin and large brown eyes. Her dark brown hair that flowed from her head like a waterfall, but floated on her shoulders like a cloud. How at the end of her hair, it curled in, looking strangely childish. But yet she looked simply ravishing at the same time. Her short, almost mouse-like, physique seemed to match his tall, giraffe-like way of life. And he loved it.

But he didn't know he loved it so much she would appear on the women of the Moon of Kipland.

Everywhere he looked, the girl, his Clara Oswald would appear. She'd be smiling, waving, grinning. Deep down he knew it wasn't her, but oh how lovely it was there. So many Claras' to stand around and stare at. Mind you, it was like swimming in a sea of Claras', because of her height, but he didn't seem to mind.

Which was when everything turned sour.

The Claras' had cornered him, and they seemed to try to get him in some sort of sexual situation. Which was harder to get out of, then he thought it was going to be. Not that he wasn't used to sexual situations, he was married to River Song for goodness sake! It was just the way they cornered him. Pressing up against him like they wanted more. They wanted him.

But he was indeed a Time Lord. Many people wanted you when you were a Time Lord. For both good and bad reasons.

One Clara had started untying his rather tightly tied bow tie, which was where he drew the line. He had figured out that in order to get out of this situation (without giving his, rather handsome regeneration up) he would need to stop feeling completely vulnerable to all these Claras'. Which was more difficult than it seemed. Clara was his companion, and they (whoever 'they' were) were using her glamourous figure, curves and all, to seduce him.

Which was, even though he didn't want to say it, working.

He felt almost obliged to do exactly as the Kiplanders had told him to do. And suddenly, it clicked in his head. Everything he had ever heard about the Kiplanders fell into place in his puzzle-like brain. The fact that hardly anyone ever left the Moon, clicked in to how anyone who did end up leaving the Moon went insane. They were obsessed on whatever they had seen on the people of Kipland, and they chased it until they died.

They had gotten what they wanted, and they thought it was true. So when they found out it was just a big lie, they didn't believe it. They had seen it with their own eyes, so it had to be true, they had told themselves, the big-chinned man recalled. They chased it and chased it until their own time eventually ran out.

But that wasn't going to happen today, he thought to himself. There were people who needed him. Universes who needed him, planets and kings and little old women who needed his help crossing the busy streets of her home town. And most of all, Clara needed him. Or he needed Clara, sometimes he couldn't tell which.

By the time he had stopped his train of thought, and dragged himself back to what was happening in front of him, he was nearly naked. If this was the real Clara, he couldn't bear to what she would have said to him. Probably something awkward and seductive at the same time. His was face as red as a fresh, plump tomato. And his (near nude) body was covered in what seemed to be dirt. But it was clearly not dirt. It was coming from the Claras' who were running their hands up and down his twiggy form.

They seemed to be making some sort of cocoon around him, and the brown, dirt-like substance was hardening considerably. If he wanted to leave, his time was right then and there.

So, with effort, the agile man pulled out his sonic. Hey, it was a good idea to carry it around in other places than his coat pocket. Especially in dire situations, such as this one. The familiar green light illuminated his hand and the Kiplanders stepped back. Their Clara forms shifting slightly (clearly out of shock) and the bow tie wearing alien got a glimpse of their actual forms. The gruesome creatures that were too terrible to even describe. The forms that would forever be burned into his eyes. The eyes that had seen the most terrible things.

But he escaped, the sonic breaking through the sticky, dirt infested cocoon and allowing him to run free. The Doctor snatched his clothes up in one hand and ran. His bare feet slammed against the ground, and his awkward limbs flailed around as he sprinted away. He ran and ran and ran and ran and ran, until he reached his sexy blue box. And then he ran again, to anywhere but where he was then.

There was no way he was returning to the Moon of Kipland.

Which left him where he was now. Nearly naked. In the TARDIS. And not knowing what to do. Of course, he could have showered. But there was no water. The TARDIS had made it so. It was her revenge for what he had done to her. Left her out in the middle of nowhere, and she was scared. The Moon of Kipland was a frightening place. People pretending to be things that they weren't. She was alone and horrified, so she turned off the water on him. Of course, it was only a playful joke, but it was awfully inconvenient.

There were only so many places he could go to get a shower, The Doctor had realized. And the only person who, he knew, would most likely let him in was... Clara. He ran a hand through his floppy hair, realizing what he had to do. His face flushing for the second time that day and he turned around, flipping some levers and switches. Heading to earth. To Clara.

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**Okay so that was part one. This will probably be about four parts. So please Review, Favourite and Follow and all those lovely things. I'll love you forever! 3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. Just wow. I cant believe how many follows, favourites and reviews this got in only one day. Thank you to everyone. You are all amazing people and I'd just like to have you know that it makes my horrible days to know that you like my writing. So thank you. I hope you like this then. Pumping out the stories right before school starts, nicely done Matt. *chuckles to self* Wow I'm such a loner. Okay enjoy!**

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Clara Oswald had had a rough day. A really rough day. Which was all due to her colleagues at the school she was working at. She honestly was so annoyed at them that she thought she might just quit. The young woman pulled a strand of hair out of her eyes, daring to even think about what had happened.

Apparently, according to the other people who worked at her school, the newbies were always hitched together. They were placed into the same groups, and often ended up stuck together until the next pair of newbies came along. Which would have been good, if her newbie partner was anyone but Mr Mitch Livesbrook.

If she used any word to describe Mr Livesbrook, it would have been meathead.

Miss Oswald disliked Mr Livesbrook. No, she hated him. She despised him in every way, shape and form. He thought of women simply like child-makers. They were simply there only for his enjoyment. Nothing else. He thought they shouldn't be able to vote, or have rights. His constant harassment of the female gender made her sick.

He was so terrible in every way. It made her so angry. None of her coworkers seemed to see that he was such a terrible person. But worst of all: she was stuck with him. Well, until another pair newbies came and took her spot. But it was awful. And her co-workers made it worse. They set the two up on dates. In fact they had just done so, setting her up for that night. Her so called 'friends' thought it was a good thing to have her meet up with a handsome young man. She needed someone in her life.

They wouldn't let her get out of it. No matter how hard she tried.

The brunette stomped across the wet cobble-stones that lined the streets. It was raining, exactly mirroring her pissed emotions. The plip-plop of raindrops sounded all around her, making strange noises when it hit her clothing. She knew she was almost to the messy apartment she called home, and was glad. She didn't want to do anything tonight. Not in this weather.

And it didn't matter if she had a date or not.

She stepped under the small canvas roof, glad to be out of the rain. Fumbling for her keys, she opened the door and started up the crooked flight of stairs. God, someone really needed to fix this place up. The squeaking of the steps used to freak her out, but she was rather used to it by now. She reached her door, which was on the top floor.

She was about to turn the key and open the door when she heard a noise.

A loud noise. A really loud, sing-song-y noise. And it was coming from inside her apartment. She turned the key slowly, her heart beating quickly. Who could possibly be in her apartment, and why? How did they even get in to begin with? She pushed open the door slowly stepping inside carefully.

Her apartment was generally the same. Papers stacked neatly in organized piles, pens and pencils in stained coffee mugs and letters from her friends from high school (and from different universes) loitered the whole of the apartment. The mostly bare walls were painted a dark purple, similar to The Doctor's coat, which the tiny brunette thought was simply a wonderful idea. Now, wherever she went, a little bit of The Doctor hung around her.

She smiled to herself, almost forgetting that the whole purpose that she was sneaking into her own home quietly was that there was an intruder.

She stepped carefully around the coffee table and walked to where the strange noise was coming from. Her bedroom. She hoped it wasn't something completely inappropriate. Not that she didn't like innapropriate.

The door opened with a loud creak, but stopped almost abruptly running directly into something very tall, very solid and very blue. The TARDIS. She smirked to herself. What was The Doctor doing on earth? What on earth was The Doctor doing in her bedroom?

"Doctor?" She raised her eyebrow, squeezing through the gap between the TARDIS and the wall, walking towards the loud... singing? It must have been singing. There was a whole lot of steam coming from the bathroom that was adjacent to her bedroom, the door was wide open. "Doctor...?"

"CLARA!" His voice seemed to echo and shake the whole room. "I hope you don't mind me here for a bit, there seems to be a bit of an issue so I'm borrowing your shower." He poked his head around the door, and looked as if he was about to step into plain view.

"You're naked." She said plainly, trying to make it obvious that he should just stay where he was. As much she wouldn't mind to see all of... that... this wasn't exactly the right time.

"I know!" He grinned, his floppy hair seemed to be flat, for once. "Isn't everyone naked when they take a shower, Clara?"

"Just..." She sputtered, trying to get him to understand. "Just finish your shower, and get dressed." Red faced, she left the room, squeezing past the TARDIS (who she could swear was chuckling, the daft machine!) and went to the kitchen to make tea. She did have a guest after all. Even if her guest happened to be an alien who was taking a shower in her bathroom.

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**Anyway, I hope you liked this as well. Hopefully the next chapter will be out in the next few days. School starts too soon. Ugh. Don't forget to review, I'll love you forever! 3**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm really sorry, my lovely followers! I did finish writing this part of the story early, but when I logged into Fanfiction it wouldn't let me access my stories. I wish it did so I could have shared this with you earlier, but oh well. Here we are now. *Adjusts bow tie* I hope you enjoy this.**

**I'm unsure if I'm going to end up shipping Capaldi and Clara or not. What she had with 11 was special.**

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By the time The Doctor had left Clara's bathroom, he was squeaky clean, dressed and (he thought to himself) looking very fashionable. He was in his regular button down shirt, vest, bow tie (they are cool!) and dark dress pants. His purple jacket was simply too hot for such circumstances. He sat next to small Miss Oswald, who held her cup of tea in her hands like a little princess.

They had finished their first box of Jammie Dodgers, and were on to their second box when she finally brought it up.

"What happened?" She didn't face him, swirling a Jammie Dodger in the darkly colored tea. "You don't usually appear in my apartment and shower. In fact, you never appear in my apartment at all." She gave him a look and he clenched his teeth, bracing for impact.

"Well, I was adventuring on the Moon of Kipland and I ran into some issues with the citizens there. Leading to this insanely interesting death-trap of a dirt pile. The dirt there however, was extremely dangerous. I couldn't get it off my skin. Well, I didn't try. Well, I would have tried if the TARDIS-" He glared at the little bit of blue he could see from the couch. "-hadn't run out of water. So I came to your apartment to wash off."

"Your snogbox ran out of water." She snickered at his misfortune.

"Yes she did. And it's not funny, Clara!"

She was cackling now. There was no turning her around and stopping her from making a fool of him. She had already started, and there was no stopping Clara Oswald. As she often said, Oswald for the win! Oswin!

She was laughing so hard, leaning against his side slightly during her fit. She had painted her nails, he noticed, with a dark blue, similar to the TARDIS. Her hair was more messily set across her head and there were almost unnoticeable tear lines that fell across her cheeks. Something had clearly happened today. And he needed to figure out what.

He squeezed her against his side, his arm hanging lazily off her shoulder. He had taken the cup of tea from her hands and placed it on the coffee table (which wasn't much of a reach, considering the length of his arms). He delicately ran his fingertips through the tips of her messy hair, looking down at her.

"So, what do you say," He smiled giddily. "Feel like going on an adventure today, Miss Oswald? Feel like exploring the stars?"

She hesitated on her answer, which was a strong first. All her responsibilities seemed to tumble back on her, crushing her spirit. "I... I can't." Her melted chocolate colored eyes didn't meet his gaze.

"I have a time machine, Clara." He tried to make her feel a little better. "You can travel through the galaxies and be back in a mili-second! All of time and space. It's all ours to explore! We can reach out and touch the stars. I promise you, my dear."

"I have stuff to do tonight, Doctor. Maybe another time?" She tried to get out of his grasp, but he only pulled her closer, resting his big chin on the top of her head.

"If you have stuff to do, maybe I can help? I am rather good at helping." He reached for his Sonic, but realized it was still in his jacket pocket. Darn.

"I'm fine. Can you just leave me alone?" She spat at him, but instantly regretted it. The words had sounded much harsher than she had originally wanted them to be. Oh god, why couldn't he just get it through his intelligent brain that she didn't want to be with him tonight. She had a date. And she couldn't exactly say 'no'.

There was an awkward silence, as he found the correct words. She could hear him intake a deep breath, starting a speech of sorts.

"Clara Oswald. Listen to me. I'm not as daft as you think. Something is up, and if there's anything I can do, you have to at least tell me. I don't want to be in the dark with this, Clara. I'm your friend, remember." He looked at her, smiling a beautifully kind smile. It was the type of smile that caused the butterflies in her stomach flutter again.

She looked up into those baffling greeny-hazel eyes. He pulled a strand of hair out of her mahogany eyes, smiling down at his lovely companion. She felt as if she could tell him anything, and he would keep it a secret as long as he lived. She felt as if he would do anything for her.

Which was when the tears came. She hadn't expected them, but here they were, dripping down her face. Her day came spouting out of her mouth, and she sputtered and shook with anger as she recalled it to him. He didn't make a sound as she spoke her mind about all her 'friends'. He only kept a firm hand on her shoulder, pressing her against him. Running a spare hand through the tips of her hair. A motion that clearly said he'd never leave her.

And she never wanted him to leave her. He was her Doctor. She was his Clara. His Impossible Girl. And she suddenly realized something huge. She had just let her guard down. She had let her emotions take over her. It had been such a long time, such a long time. Clara Oswald had tried to stop herself from falling in love with The Doctor, she really did, yet she had failed.

She had fallen in love with The Doctor.

Clara could feel her cheeks start to heat up. She couldn't meet his eyes, she couldn't look up into the dark green abyss and search for the occasional gold flake that would float by. She couldn't look up at his face, the strangely shaped mess that was filled with a bunch of irregular angles and soft curves. She couldn't look at the flop of dark hair that he had atop his rectangularly shaped head. She couldn't ogle at the fact that it seemed to always defy gravity.

Dammit. She was thinking about him again.

"Clara?" His curious accent pierced the uncomfortable silence. "Are you-"

But he was cut off by an even louder sound, the doorbell ringing. Her date had arrived.

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**This ship will be the death of me. Don't forget to favourite, follow and PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW. I adore your responses to my work. **


	4. Chapter 4

**AH! Sorry for the REALLY LONG UNCALLED FOR WAIT. It wasn't planned. However, suddenly school came around and hit me like a bus. And then I was confirmed to have this Carpo-Tunnel thing that is basically you have to wear these metal plates on your wrists because leaning on my laptop is cutting into my tendons. Causing extreme pain. But, I am ordering the metal plate for my left hand now. And will update faster after finals. **

**Also, my computer was being extremely stupid. And I typed this chapter about four times before I actually got it to save. So here we are.**

**I hope you enjoy this lovely chapter. Sorry it's shorter than usual. **

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For once, The Doctor's long legs came in handy.

At the sound of the doorbell, he nearly sprinted to the door, wobbling like a baby giraffe. He jumped on the glass coffee table, sending organized papers all over the place like falling snow, catapulted himself onto the comfortable sitting chair (the one where Clara spent most of her time curled up with a complex and well written novel), jumping off it like some sort of insane animal and tripping over his own feet to get to the door.

Clara wasn't as quick.

She was still lost in thought when the doorbell rang, and it took her a second longer to realize who was at the door. Which of course, by then, the raggedy Doctor was nearly there. Clara may not have been quick on her feet, but she certainly was quick in her thinking. Her brain whirred and spun concluding that the fastest way to get to the door was to climb over the majority of her furniture.

However that was easier said than done.

She followed The Doctor's footsteps across the glass coffee table, swishing the rest of the papers off the table with a step, and leaped for the fluffy chair, and jumped off it. She seemingly flew into the air, leaping over the back of the chair and landing on her two feet. She raced towards The Doctor, who was having quite an issue trying to figure out the three different locks (that Clara had specifically put on the door for cases such as these) without a handy-dandy Sonic, and tackled him.

She literally tackled him.

They made such a loud thump once they hit the ground Clara knew Mr Livesbrook would be curious. What was she going to even try to say? 'This looks worse than it is, Mitch'? She was so dead. She was deader than dead.

She was deader than when she fell through all of The Doctor's life and died a million times, which for sure, was saying something big.

And she realized, she was even further dead when she realized what position she was in. She was sitting on the floor, which was alright, but who she was seated on made all the difference. She was sitting on The Doctor. Her Doctor. Who, at the moment had a look of pure surprise on his face as he looked up at her. His jaw seemed to be dropped at such an awkward angle, his non-existent eyebrows reaching all the way up his long forehead (almost to his hairline). She was frozen for a split second, they both were. But she blinked and her face flamed up such a crimson red color that she could have been one of the failures that didn't quite make it to Sweetville. She jumped off him, their legs tangled for a moment before she stood up and brushed her skirt neatly down her short legs.

If it weren't such an delicate situation, the two might have just laughed their clumsiness off. However, there was still a guest outside. And a date to go on.

Clara took a deep breath, closing her eyes for an uncomfortable second, trying to drain the blood from her face. It wasn't working, she could still feel her skin heating. Well, if this was as far as she was going to get, there was one more thing she had to do.

She turned around to look at The Doctor, but he was gone.

The brunette heard her door close quietly, the timelord retreating to his TARDIS.

She unlocked the last unnecessary latch on the door and opened it slowly. Her date had one raised to the door, he was about to knock again. He looked down at her, his large jawline was annoying, his seemingly perfectly combed blonde hair was irritating, and his obnoxious smirk of a smile drove her nuts. Oh why, oh why had she said yes to this?

"Hello Clara." His voice was maddeningly nasally, like he was cursed with some sort of pesky illness. "I've waited this long, so you better let me in."

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**And we introduced the awful sir, Mr Mitch Livesbrook. Ugh, what an asshole. (Haha no one got my lovely Night Vale joke). Anyway, PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT, FOLLOW AND REVIEW. Please, please, PLEASE, it gives me LOTS and LOTS of inspiration. And it makes my usually sucky days a lot better. You, my good m'ladies and (maybe) sirs, are all amazing.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Darlings. Here we are, again. I have seemingly produced another chapter in the night. You should be rejoicing, I didn't study for tests because I was writing instead. Oh well. This is more interesting. I do think this chapter is my favourite. The Doctor has always just been my favourite character, even when I was little (littler?). Anyway. You don't want to read this, so go ahead. Read away!**

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The Doctor was listening to their conversation.

He knew he shouldn't be, but there he was, listening. He had been there for awhile now. Well, not exactly awhile, but it felt like awhile. Every time he ended up waiting somewhere, it felt like awhile. But at least there was something to listen to, even though it was some guy, some 'Mister Livesbrook', the man who was attempting to woo his Clara.

Clara had already situated the two of them, she (by the sounds of it) was curled as far away from Mr Livesbrook as possible, on the huge reading chair that she had propelled herself off earlier. And he, with his clunky shoes (that he hadn't bothered to take off when he had entered her apartment earlier) was perched on the edge of his seat, nearly falling off the comfortable couch that the two had been laughing on earlier. He had been laughing with his Clara.

His Clara.

But now, she wasn't laughing. In fact, she wasn't even talking. Mr Livesbrook was yapping on about how his grandmother had made the most delicious pumpkin muffins when she was still alive or how he thought certain people at their work had to go on diets, and his companion would simply reply with an "Mmm" or an "I see" or a "Sure". The floppy-haired Doctor could hear why she didn't like this man. He could imagine her taking glances at the large blue clock she had in the kitchen. The TARDIS blue clock. He almost laughed out loud, but caught himself. If he was going to interrupt, it might as well be for a good reason. Not because he couldn't contain an absurd giggling fit.

Plus, what would he even say when he entered from her bedroom? 'Oh hello, my name is The Doctor and I've been listening to your entire conversation through your date's bedroom door' didn't exactly cut it. Plus, what would Clara even say to that.

She wasn't exactly laid-back about what had happened earlier. Perhaps she thought it was a bad idea that she had propelled herself off the chair and nearly sent them both crashing down into her downstairs neighbour's apartment? Probably so.

Or maybe, it was something else. Her face had gone as red as The Crimson Horror. And that, no matter how much they both didn't want to think about it, meant something. Something really, really big.

What could that possibly be? Did she have a secret that she didn't want to tell him? Was it some sort of human ritual that came around every twenty-four or twenty-five years? He needed some sort of manual on the human race. He wished they'd just stop changing. No, he changed his thought around, he wished the _females_ of the human race would stop being so difficult to understand.

And all the Claras in the world too. He wished they'd be easier to read. Easier to understand. Like a book in his giant library, perhaps. Not that he didn't love his darling Clara, but something had changed about her. And he was starting to question weather it was his fault or not.

He hoped it wasn't his fault. He didn't know what he would even do if he didn't have a companion. If he didn't have Clara as his companion. He might slip back into his 'Pond Ritual'. The ritual that came to be when he'd lost the Ponds. But Clara had saved him. Or... A version of her had. They had saved each other. And he was ever so grateful.

He would have died if it wasn't for her. Her bravery and kindness, her sassy yet pleasant self. She was beautiful, delightful, exquisite. There weren't enough descriptive words in the whole of forever that were good enough to describe his Clara. His brave Clara Oswald. The one who had sacrificed herself to save him. To save all of him. Every face, every personality, not caring if she lived or died.

She was what he needed in his life.

And he realized why the Kiplanders had shown him her face.

His jaw dropped. His brown eyes went wide. And for once, he went still. It was as if, for The Doctor, that the world had suddenly slowed down. He was able to observe his surroundings, his back pressed tightly against the TARDIS, the tall glass he had fetched from the many kitchens that the TARDIS supplied for him falling from his clumsy fingertips, gradually hitting the carpeted floors of Clara's bedroom, shattering on impact.

He realized. He was shaking. This was what everyone who had ever visited The Moon of Kipland had felt when they had realized. They had found what they were looking for in the first place. Hidden in plain sight.

Clara Oswald.

His most desired was Clara Oswald.

He loved Clara Oswald.

His Clara.

He was her Doctor, and she was his Clara.

He was so lost in the thought of what he had just discovered in his own mind that he almost didn't hear Clara stutter. He almost didn't hear her call out for help. And he almost didn't hear her scream.

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**Oh right. I forgot about the cliffhanger. Sorry about that. **

**Don't forget to Review, favourite and follow. I'll love you forever! (ESPECIALLY IF YOU REVIEW *HINT HINT*)**

**~Matteo :33**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! You guys/gals crack me up. You all sounded so flustered and such when it ended in a cliffhanger. For example; RandomVictorian was so calm at first, saying kind things and such but after the last update she was screaming. It cracked me up. (My friends were looking at me weirdly as I died laughing in front of my phone). I'm going to answer all of your questions and comments at the bottom of this chapter, so here we go! Have fun reading, lovelies.**

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Clara Oswald was a screamer.

People always had a tendency to take that the _wrong way_, but she was. There was no concealing how she jumped and shrieked loudly into the sky whenever she was deeply frightened.

And when she was in bed.

But that was a whole other story that didn't need to be running through her head at that very moment. She had better things to worry about. Like the fact that Mr Livesbrook had just done something very out of the ordinary.

His whole body had just flickered.

Not simply like the lights flickered in her apartment and he was out of view for a moment. He literally flickered. His whole body did. Like a television screen with a bad connection. Like an intercepted broadcast.

However, what was even more strange, was that he didn't even seem to notice that was even happening. He continued to babble on about his life.

"...which was when I discovered the dog stuck in the underbrush, and what a dog it was. All dirty from going on a trek around the park, quite a strange dog it was..." He focused on her, looking at her shocked expression. "Oh." He seemed to realize what had happened by the appalled look on her face.

She swallowed. "N-No, no, continue. I want to hear what happened to the dog." She didn't want the... creature to realize what she'd seen. But it was too late.

"It seems my disguise has malfunctioned, Clara Oswald." The man-no, the creature-grinned. "I guess that's what you get when you buy cheap. Too bad, our date was going so well." He pouted childishly, like his personality was switching back and fourth from Mr Livesbrook and whatever the thing was in front of her.

He was leaned towards her, or she should say, _it_ leaned towards her. It was licking its lips, looking her over. Preparing when to strike like an animal watching its prey.

Then the creature lunged at her. It wasn't quick, however the way 'Mr Livesbrook' was inching its way to her scared her. It was like it was looking for a weak spot. Its body was changing, neck twisting like a snake, eyes glowing and teeth becoming sharper as it looked over what to bite into first. Its fingers grew and grew, and its body curled at such an angle that its spine could have been broken. That is, if it was human.

It wasn't human. At all.

Its form flickered from the Mr Livesbrook to a sickly green colored creature with ripped, stitched, and oozing flesh. She could see that some of its body was see-through and parts of its body had pieces of bone sticking out of it (it was impossible to tell if it was human or alien). Its face was a distorted mess of flesh, teeth, and multiple mouths and eyes. But it gave her a general impression that anyone who saw this... this thing... was bound to be out of their misery in a very short amount of time.

"W-What are you d-doing?" She stuttered, climbing off the chair and further away from the monster advancing, not taking her eyes off it.

"Oh, you know. The usual. Getting ready to chomp on your delicious time-traveling flesh, Clara Oswald." The creature was just as snarky as Mr Livesbrook was in real life, but then and again, she didn't really know if she'd ever met Mr Livesbrook. He could have just been an alien from space all this time. Targeting her because of her influence with The Doctor.

Thinking of which, where was that rag-doll of a man? Should he have been here ages ago? Protecting her at all costs? That was what he did, wasn't it? She didn't know. Plus, their humiliating situation earlier didn't help her chances with survival and-what was that? She had hit something, something hard.

The wall.

She was cornered.

This was how it was going to end. Eaten by some otherworldly creature behind her Doctor's back. Covered in greeny goop and slowly decaying with the rest of the creature's victims in its stomach. Didn't The Doctor realize that was very gross?

The Doctor wasn't going to leave her here, was he? She hoped not. But she only had one choice. She was a screamer, and what were screamers good at? Screaming.

She hoped The Doctor had good hearing. He would need it.

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**So there you go. It was a bit of a cliff hanger, but at least Clara hasn't died yet. Right? *Chaotic laughter in the background***

**Here's some answers to the questions/comments you shared with me...**

**For everyone who said something along the lines of "Update this now!": I'm trying, I'm trying. School is like a giant building that is chasing after me, literally. So, if there's a bit of break between chapters, please know I'm trying my best. And that I may not know what I should write next. My story line is kinda breaking up now, so I need to figure out how to end this before I kill everyone. Lol. That won't happen (right?). So, I'll try my best. Thank you for all your support.**

**Tangyman: Haha. Here's your next chapter, my good sir (or madam).**

**RandomVictorian: Your comments make me laugh. Thank you very much. I read a couple of your stories and oH MY GOD I WAS LAUGHING. My lovely Whouffle couple like to bicker don't they? It's a pity I can't write people talking very well... :P Keep writing, I love reading your work.**

**Planet of the Deaf: Thank you for reviewing this. I read a couple of your stories too, which are very VERY good. I'm reading 'The Doctor and The Doctor Reunited' right now and can I just say YOU DID DONNA PERFECTLY. Please, please PLEASE keep writing!**

**And to everyone who said something along the lines of "I really like your writing!": Thank you SO MUCH. You have NO IDEA how much that means to me. Many of my family members have always told me that my writing was really great, but I don't really trust them. Since they're family, you can never really tell if they're lying or telling the truth. So I've kinda always been insecure about my writing talents. So thank you so much for your support. I'm planning to write a novel eventually, so this is just practice. I hope you enjoy it.**

**I hope you liked this chapter and if you have any suggestions on what I should write next (after this story of course) please feel free to tell me. AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW, FAVOURITE AND FOLLOW. I'll love you FOREVER!**

**~Matteo :33**


	7. Chapter 7

**Long awaited, but here we are. Again. I hope you enjoy this. And you must know the ending is in sight. Probably in a few chapters, this will be finished. I don't know. Maybe. But anyway, without further ado; Chapter Seven.**

**I don't own The Doctor, or Miss Clara Oswald or Doctor Who. They belong to the lovely (yet dreadful) BBC. **

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The Doctor wished his limbs weren't so spread out when Clara had yelled.

If his limbs weren't so long and gangly, clumsy and useless, he could have gotten to her in time. Well, he could have gotten to her faster. But he was basically stuck. Stuck between a sexy blue box and a door that was painted an absurd shade of purple. Not that he didn't like purple. Purple was cool. If he didn't like purple, it wouldn't be the color of his finely tailored suit jacket. But that wasn't the point. He needed to get to Clara, and quickly.

He shuffled from between the door and his TARDIS, then moving out of the way for the door and opening it quickly, he charged into the room. Well, better phrased, he charged into the room weaponless and lovesick, determined to get to Clara.

However, when he opened the door, Clara was simply sitting there, in the middle of the room, like nothing was wrong. How very curious. He walked towards her cautiously getting a better look at her. She was drenched in slime from head to toe, and her clothing and hair looked plastered to her body. She looked up at him and her eyes widened.

"Doctor!" She cried hysterically. He lent her one of his hands and she grasped it tightly, (it made a weird _splooch_ sound as she squeezed it), and she pulled herself to her feet. "I-It was after me! I was cornered and I thought it was going to eat me. But it heard you, and it vanished, spraying me with this gunk. Oh Doctor, you saved me."

"I'm glad you're alright, Clara." He smiled down at her, but something churned down within him. Her huge coffee-colored eyes didn't seem as full of life and giddiness. He could sense that something wasn't quite right. Clara never cried out to him like a princess in a tower calling for her prince to arrive.

She hugged him tightly, her arms wrapping around the slender timelord's torso, like a child holding a stuffed animal. He had no choice but to hug her back, one hand on her lower back and the other in her slick hair. She was shaking slightly, and all he wanted to do was to kiss her and promise everything was going to be okay. But he didn't trust her, not yet. He didn't trust that she was actually Clara.

However, his hearts were betraying him. They were pounding. Oh why, oh why did he have to have feelings for someone who was so... Clara. Plus, in that tight of a vicinity, there was no doubt that she could feel his hearts pumping in time. His thoughts bumped around in his brain, overlapping and making him think of things that weren't even relevant. One thought always remained on the top, "Would she ever feel the same? Would she ever love me back?".

His lovesick thoughts were clouding his mind. But not enough to not be suspicious on how Clara was acting. She was pressed against him, her hands were shaking and moving slightly on his spine. The feeling was familiar but the timelord couldn't place it. It was like seeing someone on the street that you were sure you'd seen before but, they looked right through you, like you were invisible. He had so many memories. It always took him awhile to search through them all to find what he was looking for.

Perhaps it had been something he had done with another companion? Rose? She always did like hugs. Or maybe Donna, when she had collapsed with her mind full of the all-knowing universe.

Or perhaps it was another monster that he had encountered before. One that knew his weakness. Daleks? No. They wouldn't know how to change form. Cybermen? Possibly, he'd have to check the side of his Clara's face to make sure she wasn't turning half robot and loosing all her emotions.

And in order to check, he'd need his Sonic. Which was in his purple jacket. In the TARDIS.

"Clara. As much as your hugs are quite enjoyable, I'm going to need you to let go. There's something I need to check on." He smiled down at her. She tried to mimic his smile but failed, she looked angry, her brain ticking quickly, trying to find out another plan. That's what it _looked_ like to the old timelord at least.

Suddenly, her whole expression changed in a split second. If he blinked more, he would have missed it. She pulled out of the hug slightly, just removing her arms from their wrapped position around him, her body still pressed against his and lifted her hands to his hair. Running her fingers through the locks of floppy hair that she could reach. Very curious. Clara wasn't ever this direct. She would be flirty, but she would never actually do, well... This.

Not saying that it wasn't enjoyable. It was really quite enjoyable for the old timelord.

The short brunette ran her hands through his hair, making it more fluffy than usual. She played with his hair for what seemed like hours, days, years even. It felt like she would never stop. But that didn't stop him from remembering what he had to do. He needed to get his sonic. He needed to make sure Clara wasn't a monster waiting to eat his time traveler innards.

"C-Clara..." He stuttered slightly, focusing on the girl who was playing with his hair. "I need to... I need... S-Sonic...". Despite knowing basically everything in the whole of the many universes, his stuttering and lacking in knowledge of what to do when a female (or a male) was even acting this way was quite amusing to Clara.

"What is it, Doctor?" She sounded robotic. It wasn't right. She didn't sound like Clara. He needed to get away. To get his sonic.

He tried to slip from her grasp, and almost managed it. But was stopped. Stopped by the surprisingly strong hands of Clara Oswald. She yanked down on his neck, brining his face centimeters away from hers and suddenly, out of seemingly nowhere crushed her lips against his.

He had to admit; the kiss was nice. But it didn't seem like he was kissing Clara. It actually didn't seem like he was kissing at all. It felt like he was floating, suspended in time. He had kissed others before, Rose for example, or Jack, or Martha, or... Well, now that he thought about it, he had kissed all of his companions. Maybe not voluntarily, but he had kissed them. Or they had kissed him.

All the kisses had sort of blended into one, not that everyone didn't have a different taste to them, a different smell to their hair. Rose had smelt like fancy perfume, like roses (_haha_, he laughed, _my pun_), Jack had tasted strongly of mint and smelt like a bucket of body odor which was muffled slightly by the strong cologne that he wore.

All his companions were so different but Clara, she was a whole other story.

He had been saved by so many of her. Different versions, spread through out his life, forever saving, forever dying. She was amazing. She was so very-Wait, what was that taste in his mouth?

It was very familiar, too familiar. And the more he pictured the taste, the worse the feeling became in his gut. He had experienced a feeling just like this earlier. It felt like this day even. It was. It was this day. He tried to remember what he had warned himself about earlier. Something to do with a recent monster.

The taste in his mouth was tangy, like an absurd aftertaste but stronger. He felt captured, locked away. He could feel his breathing become more shallow, his hearts felt like they were slowing down. He could feel it. His vision was quickly being eaten away by black. Pulling him away from consciousness, and quickly.

He was dying. Or at least, he thought he was.

And all at once, he realized what his mind was trying to tell him about the familiarity of Clara's lips. Clara wasn't kissing him. A creature was kissing him. The taste in his mouth wasn't pleasant. The flavor in his mouth was killing him.

It was poison.

He blacked out.

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**Don't kill me! He's not dead, I promise. Just simply knocked out. For now. **

**Sorry this has taken me longer than usual. Its not that I'm getting lazy, I just haven't been feeling all that great. I hope you'll understand, my dearest readers. Thank you for your support, and a question for you; Should I write another Whouffle Fic after this one?**

**Don't forget to Review, Favourite and Follow!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello again Readers! So very sorry this took longer than expected. I spent more time goofing off than I should have (goofing off and doing homework and going to dances and dancing with people). But here we are! So, I hope you enjoy. I've been trying to come up with an ending to this, and I have finally figured it out. So, the end is in sight!**

**I'm also going to start writing a Wholock fic (which will probably include the Doctors, the sociopath, the nurse, the assassin and the ginger). And I will get to your 10/Rose fic Mary, I PROMISE!**

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When The Doctor finally awoke, he found himself in a familiar situation.

His green eyes could see little, but from what he could see, he was still in Clara's apartment. That was a good sign. However, when he tried to pry whatever was wrapped around his vision, he found he couldn't move his arms. Or his legs. Or any other part of his body. That was tremendously worrying.

He couldn't hear very well (whatever the substance that was wrapped around his vision seemed to be wrapped around his whole body, from his toes to the tips of his ears) and what he could hear, was seriously freaking the timelord out.

He couldn't understand what the creature was saying.

It wasn't in the databanks of his remarkably full brain. And that was scary.

However, luckily for him, the TARDIS translation systems were online (an added bonus to being a time traveler), and after a moment, he started to render what the creature was saying.

"Yes, I have him..." The creature grumbled into what must have been some-sort of technologically advanced version of a telephone. "Okay... No, I understand... I got the girl too! Of course... I'll be up very soon... Adieu." It hung up.

_Well that probably wasn't good_, he thought. Even The Doctor, with all his mystical ways and strikingly obnoxious behavior, couldn't deny that. However, being who he was, he decided to do something incredibly stupid.

He concentrated on speaking, moving his jaw, not letting his emotions take over his mind. "Who was that?" He commented to the creature, who (he was pretty sure) jumped. It seemed just as surprised as he was that he could move his jaw, which the floppy haired madman didn't expect would actually work, but was glad he could talk to the creature. It was time to doctor a conversation (haha, puns!).

"It was none of your business, Doctor." The creature sounded like it was sneering down at him, but he couldn't see it so he couldn't be sure.

"Ah. You know who I am."

"Doesn't everyone? You _are_ the last of the Time Lords."

"I wasn't aware people did such research." The Doctor scoffed.

"You burned your whole planet, Doctor. That isn't exactly something that goes unnoticed." The creature moved around Clara's apartment, bumping into furniture and knocking a few things over. Clara wouldn't be very happy about that. And then again, he didn't even know where Clara was now.

His Clara. How could he have lost her? She was his everything. If these creatures that he was dealing with did anything to harm her, he would... Well, he didn't exactly know what he would do. Just that it wouldn't be nice.

"Yes, I did burn my whole planet. Why does that enable you to be able to kidnap me and my companion? We have done nothing to you."

"Nothing?" The creature snorted. "You haven't done nothing."

"Oh. Well, if I have done something, the least you could do is tell me what it is I did." He paused for a moment. "And release Clara. She's done nothing to harm you."

"Clara. Clara Oswald." The creature muttered. "Your Clara Oswald... Oh, she has some good things in here." It leaned down to look at him, tapping the side of its head. From what he could see, the creature was flickering back and fourth from forms. One a tall handsome man with curly blonde hair, and then to a short brunette woman with huge brown eyes. His Clara.

"What have you done with her!" He growled, trying to shake out of his bonds.

"Its no use trying to struggle, Doctor. You barely escaped before, and you won't escape now. We were clueless. But now, we know where your heart... or should I say hearts... lie."

We. _There were more of them_, The Doctor thought. More of these creatures. The creatures that he was sure he had encountered before. And if just one creature had gotten him all tied up, he wasn't sure what he would do if he encountered more. He was TARDIS-less, Sonic-less and movement-less. He was in the least helpful situation he could possibly be in.

His head was so full. He needed a bigger head! So many memories. So little time. He needed to find the one about shape-shifters. The one about creatures who created themselves to be something they weren't. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to concentrate. It was hard. He could almost see the creature grinning down at him, reading to burst into laughter.

"Come on Doctor. They say you're quite smart." The creature cackled at him.

Think Doctor think! He could hear himself in his head, searching through the layers of memory. Maybe he had met shape-shifters with Rose? It would have certainly given these... these things enough time to get information on him. And capture him. Same with Donna, or Martha or Amy (and Rory). His Pond. He _had_ encountered The Flesh with his ginger companion.

But, The Flesh didn't change form simultaneously. They didn't flip and flop from person to person, they formed as one and stayed as that one. So, what about Prisoner Zero? It was still locked up, he presumed. The Atraxi probably wouldn't let it out of their sight ever again (yes, sight Doctor, they had a giant eyeball to take care of that). So, that took Amy off the list.

And left Clara.

What had he done with Clara? Something to do with skin-changers, people who were seeing double. Nothing came to mind. So maybe he didn't find these people with Clara. Perhaps this was one of River's tricks? She did love to tie him up. But she wouldn't completely kidnap Clara to get to him, right? He certainly hoped not.

However, River was dead. Which abruptly left her out of the picture. Unless she was a ghost, which was highly unlikely. So, no River.

Which left... himself?

What had he done on his own recently? What _hadn't_ he done on his own recently. Basically nothing. Clara had been with him almost every step of the way. They had had such fun together. So many adventures, such little time. But time could be extended; he was a _Lord of Time_. So, what had he done on his own? He had visited the planet that held the most beautiful museum filled to the brim with fezzes and bow ties, which he had tried to persuade Clara to join him on, but she had curtly said she wouldn't join him.

He couldn't understand why she didn't like Fezzes and Bow Ties. They were cool.

He pushed the ongoing thought away, looking for the specific memory. Where else had he been? It was eating at his mind. He could feel it, in the corner of his brain like a door that was slightly open, beckoning him inside. Today. What had he done today. He knew it had something to do with today. So, he went over the previous events in his head.

He had visited Clara, she had tackled him to the ground after grumbling about how she had been set up on a date with a man who she knew from work. But why had he gone to Clara's to in the first place? Shower. He needed to shower. Why did he need to shower? The TARDIS' water had gone out, and he was filthy. But why was he filthy? Had he been on an adventure, or been attacked by monsters? He could feel the memory almost start to slide away from him. It was being pulled away by some unseen force.

He scrunched his face up, thinking hard. What was it! Why was he filthy?

His eyes opened suddenly. The green-gold irises popping in shock. His mouth opening to a large 'O'. He finally understood. He remembered. The memory came flooding back to him. Kipland. His Claras were all over Kipland.

He was dealing with a Kiplander.

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**So, that's it for now. I shall now obnoxiously finish writing the next chapter and post it ASAP! Please review and respond. I love hearing what you have to say. It honestly makes my dreary days so much better! Xoxo! **

**~Matteo :33**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello. This has been so long. I am SO SORRY YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW. Okay. So here we go! Hope you enjoy! Thanks to sassywriterchick for her re-reading of this lovely (but short) chapter. I owe you one, Chiquita!**

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"You've come to a conclusion, I presume." The Kiplander's voice broke through the air. "It took you a lot longer than I would have expected. Then and again, from what I've heard, you like to talk your way through things, pacing and all." The creature's voice changed to something that mildly resembled his own voice. "According to blah blah blah..." The creature chuckled and it's voice changed back into the mess of voices that it usually was. "Did you not want me to know what you were thinking?"

If The Doctor was in any other position, he would have easily taken on the Kiplander in a fight or a duel of the minds. However, he wasn't in a position to do so. He was tied up for goodness sake! And there wasn't a soul in the world who could save him now.

No one who would recognize him anyway. None of his past companions would be able to understand that he was their same Doctor.

"Perhaps I did not. Perhaps I did. You should know, since you know everything about me." It didn't matter what he said anymore.

"Oh Doctor. If we knew everything about you, you wouldn't be here. You would already be under our control."

"And I'm not?" The Doctor chuckled sarcastically. "I am literally tied up right now. What of that doesn't scream 'I'm under your control!'?"

"Well, you aren't, and that's that." The Kiplander sighed, almost bored at how daft The Doctor was being in it's standards. He was supposed to be the smartest man (if you could call him a man) in the galaxy. And the universe. In fact, many universes thought he was the most intelligent. It had taken him such a long, awfully dull time to figure out that it was indeed a Kiplander.

It was surprised that the famous Doctor hadn't heard about the most intelligent creatures in the universe: The Kiplanders.

Well, they _had_ deleted themselves out of history, but that wasn't the point. The Doctor could do anything, but yet, here he was, rolled up in what it called 'The Pseudo-Blenncut', with seemingly no way to escape.

_Seemingly no escape_, the creature chuckled to itself earning a strong retort from The Doctor, who was yelling a useless number of words at it. Oh, how he didn't understand. This was simply a test. A test that, at the moment, the poor Doctor was failing miserably. And the more he failed, the less likely that it was that he would ever get his lovely companion back. And more or less, his TARDIS.

If The Doctor could escape from The Pseudo-Blenncut once, he could do it again. But not without that strange green-tipped machine that had allowed him out of it before. And he was without that machine.

The Kiplanders wanted to see if he could do it again. No one had ever been able to break out. Not one of their victims had found the way to unravel the code that was so securely placed upon The Pseudo-Blenncut. But this was The Doctor. The smartest man in the galaxy.

The Kiplander pushed those thoughts out of his head. He had a duty to do. He had been selected and sent down to retrieve The Doctor, and that was what he must do. He looked down at the floppy-haired creature lying on this human furniture item (a _sofa_ they called it) and sighed. He didn't know if The Doctor would ever figure out.

And speaking about The Doctor? More like, speak of a bad mood.

The Doctor's head was turning at the speed of light. Gears were turning and clicking in his mind, whizzing and buzzing (almost like machinery). His eyes darted underneath his closed eyelids quickly, like a thief rummaging through soon to be stolen goods, looking for the right ring or necklace. If he had encountered these creatures, The Kiplanders, before, then he must have run into they way they fought, which he had.

The mud.

That crusty substance that left him in desperate need of an earthly shower. The stuff that had lead him to Clara's apartment, and started all this messy alien business. But how had he gotten away last time? With his Sonic. Which he didn't have at this moment, but wished desperately that he had. The green light had scared away the Kiplanders before, and even if he did end up having his sonic, there would be no guarantee that that would actually help him this time.

The Kiplanders had adapted quite easily. So easily that it took them less than twenty-four earth hours to track him down, infiltrate his companion's life and steal her to who knows wear, and do who knows what with her.

He didn't want to think about Clara right now.

But, she was his life. The only thing that mattered to him. Even if she didn't know it (and might never know it). He loved Clara, and if they ever got out of this together, he promised himself that he had to tell her.

_I love you, Clara Oswald._

I love you from the tips of your (highly toxically) painted toenails to the tip of your petite head. And I love everywhere in between. Even when you sass me, I love it. You make me smile even when I'm sad. You make me want to hug and kiss you all at the same time. _Oh Clara Oswald_, The Doctor hummed in his mind, _I love you!_

But in order to save you, The Doctor thought, I'm going to need to concentrate. Concentrate on getting me out of this mess, and then you. Because I am going to save you, Clara Oswald. I will save you, my wonderful Clara.

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**Ah yes. Here we are, again. At the end of another chapter. It took me awhile to figure out where I was even going with this, so I hope you didn't mind waiting for like four days. So, I have now got an actual plan in my head. Whoop. Go me. Okay. PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW, FAVOURITE AND FOLLOW. (You can... I don't know... Maybe follow me too... *wink wonk*)**

**~Matteo :33**


	10. Chapter 10

**Ah yes. Hello again. I had time so I decided to launch this only a day after the other chapter was posted. Lovely thoughts. Okay, so I hope you enjoy this. The Doctor's mind had quite a time thinking, and thinking is always lovely. I simply adore the way that the lines are scripted in the show. I hope you enjoy this!**

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The Doctor's head ticked faster than a ticking time bomb.

Time was slipping from his fingers like sand at a human beach. His mind was racing faster than an earthly olympic running athlete could run. He kept going over the facts that he had figured out already. His mind filled to the brim with quotes from the Sherlock Holmes books.

_Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth._

Good old Sherlock Holmes. Always showing him the answer even when he was so unsure that his head was going to explode.

The Kiplander had certainly said more than it should have. It had let the secret go that he wasn't exactly under their control, but yet he could be at any moment. So perhaps, it was the way his body was.

But he couldn't move it, so it couldn't be that.

So, he continued to work the conversation through his mind again. Working through the sentence structures and metaphorical terms, listening to the way the Kiplander spoke. It was all so confusing. But he had to figure it out. For Clara. For his beloved Clara Oswald.

He cleared his throat, looking upwards (well, where else could he look?!) and started to speak. "What exactly am I tangled in? It seems to be quite strong, but it also seems quite weak. What exactly is it called?"

"If I told you, it would ruin the surprise." The Kiplander seemed to giggle. Stupid face-changer aliens.

"So It has to do with the name. That would give it away, I presume?"

"Of course."

"And you also said that I am not under your control. So that means, I would be free. But I'm not, since I'm tied up. So the reason I am free is because of the means of how I am tied up."

The Kiplander muttered incoherently so, The Doctor continued.

"I did escape from you all before, which lead you all here. Which was quite quick, seeing as it has only been a slim amount of time since I did so. And you did manage to become my dearest Clara's date." He didn't even bother with hiding it anymore. They already seemed to know of his feelings for Clara. She _had_ appeared on them on the Moon of Kipland. "So..."

His brain had hit another dead end. He had gone over all that information before. He needed more clues, more hints that lead him to the answer. The way to escape the bonds of this creature was to figure out what this creation was called. But in order to do that he had to figure out more information about the Kiplanders.

What exactly were the Kiplanders?

What did he know on these seemingly nonexistent aliens?

Well, they were very sneaky, and the only reason people knew about them was through word of mouth. Other adventure-seeking extraterrestrials had landed upon the Moon of Kipland and been in awe. They must have let a few adventurers escape at first, but when the cost became too high, they started figuring out a way to kill all the travelers that ended up there. Which lead him to how they blended themselves into becoming Claras.

There were Claras everywhere when The Doctor had arrived.

So many Claras that he had nearly gotten so distracted he could have been a goner. But he had escaped. He had escaped that strange dirt-like material.

But what if it wasn't dirt?

What if it was tricking his mind into thinking it was dirt?

The Kiplanders did have a tendency of tricking travelers into thinking they were things that they truthfully weren't. And, according to what had happened when he had turned the Sonic on and exposed their true forms, it was linked to their minds.

Which probably meant that most of their materials came from their mental capacities. What their minds thought of, was what the materials were capable of. For example, if they took what was in his mind, and thought about it themselves, it would appear on the material that they were wearing.

Clever.

Very clever Kiplanders. Very, very clever.

It was no surprise that they were able to delete themselves from all history books and such. The person only saw what they wanted to see, not what was actually there. Like physic paper, but a lot more advanced. And used for a bad cause.

However, that didn't solve his problem.

He still had to figure out how to get out of this interesting prison that was this strange material.

His mind spun back into action. _Since_, The Doctor thought, _that material was connected to the Kiplander's mind, why shouldn't this be?_ It was a perfectly acceptable assumption, seeing as that was basically his only choice at the moment.

And since, he continued, most creatures, be them human or not, are usually susceptible to end up thinking about whatever another person (or creature) says, even if they say _not_ to think about it, this was going to be easy.

"A hundred bow ties! Now!"

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**Lovely! Just grand. Please, please, PLEASE ****review****, ****favourite**** and ****follow****. It will make my day. As well as yours when another chapter comes out. Plus, I simply LOVE hearing from you all. What do you think is going to happen next?**

**(Also, following and/or favouriting me wouldn't hurt...)**

**~Matteo :33**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello! Here we are! I hope you enjoy it! And many thanks to ****sassywriterchick**** to being extremely sassy and fabulous for looking over my story. It's so great to have someone to talk to, so thank you my dear miss. (For you all to know, it is SO COOL if you review my story and if you decide to PM me, cause I ADORE hearing from you.)**

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If Clara had been there (and conscious) when her Doctor had yelled about bow ties, she would have taken her palm and slapped it across her forehead. She would have said something along the lines of "Seriously. Bow ties, Doctor. Couldn't you have chosen anything else?" and the man that was more limb than actual muscle would have replied, "But Clara, just look at all the bow ties!" and he would 'swim' around in the sea of multicolored fabric until she started to laugh.

But she wasn't exactly there.

And he was still covered in bow ties.

His plan worked, and he was proud of it, but that was only phase one. Phase one of a couple phases, he hadn't exactly counted. But one of the phases was 'Rescue Clara', followed by, 'Kiss Clara' and 'Tell Clara That You Love Her'.

By The Doctor's standards, it was a pretty accurate plan. And he was quite proud of plans that actually ended up working. (Not many did, there was usually an awful lot of improvising and doing stupid things, which usually turned out to work better than anyone would have expected). However, in order to even get to step 'Tell Clara That You Love Her', he would have to set his plan into motion.

Which involved getting out of the luscious bow ties before he was tangled back up in them.

He scrambled off the couch, scattering the cool items all over the floor. He made a mental note to apologize to Clara when he finally got them out of this mess. She probably wouldn't want to ever see the amount of bow ties he had in the TARDIS. Quite a large amount, that was.

TARDIS. Right. His plan. _See,_ he muttered to himself, slapping his little brain self in the tiny brain forehead, _this was what always happened when he made a plan_. It never ever worked. He grinned stupidly at the alien, who's shock-filled-multi-formed face was slowly realizing what had just happened. Ah yes, plans, plans, plans! He needed to stick to it, or he would be dead time traveler meat.

"Ah. It seems I've figured out how to unravel your little..." The Doctor was a bit at a lost of words. "Thingy-ma-bobber here..."

The Kiplander composed itself again, smiling creepily at the madman. "It seems you have. Might I ask how?"

"You just did. That would really be irrelevant to ask to ask something that you've already asked." He was rambling, it's what he did when he was thinking. Plan, plan! Stick to the plan!

"But may I know?"

"Don't you already know?"

"We do not."

He ignored the question. "Where's my companion?" He never had honestly referred to her as his 'companion'. It sounded too formal.

"Clara Oswald?"

"That would be the one."

"She's safe."

That could mean many things. Too many things.

"How exactly?"

"Doctor, we're sure you can figure it out. You're on a roll, traveler."

He shivered. What a queer thing to say.

"Could you just hand her over? That would be considerably simpler."

The Kiplander chuckled it's morphed chuckle. "Do you honestly think we're that simple, Doctor?"

"Well..."

"Well, we're not."

"But, I need to find her." The Doctor hummed. "And _you_ clearly know where to look!"

"Just think about it. It didn't take you very long to get out here and figure out that it was one of us that had captured you..." The creature put on a sarcastic thinking face. "Oh wait, it did."

"Get to the point!"

"Calm down there, spaceman!"

The Doctor wanted to scream endless amounts of human profanity at the Kiplander, but he didn't. "Alright."

"Ooh! Way to cool it, Doctor." The creature was starting to sound a bit like Amy. Oh, how he wanted to crush its head.

"Just tell me how to get Clara back!"

"It's easy, just follow my instructions."

There was a moment of silence.

"Your instructions...?"

"Are you really that thick?"

"I am not thick!" The Doctor sputtered.

"Of course not." The creature buzzed with sarcasm. How awfully annoying. "Which is why you'd be able to quickly figure out how to get your _companion_ back." It mimicked his voice on _companion_, and he wanted to loose it. But he had to keep his cool, for Clara's sake. For Clara's apartment's sake.

"Yes. I will be able to figure it out. And I am about to." A smirk had popped up onto his lips. His Sonic was just in the TARDIS. And the TARDIS was just in Clara's bedroom, and Clara's bedroom was directly behind him. "I'll be back in a moment."

And then The Doctor, no longer trapped under a strange alien substance, dove behind Clara's bedroom door, squeezing between the blue wood of the TARDIS and the nearly peeling wallpaper of Clara's bedroom, and jumped into the TARDIS. He had someone to save, and in order to do that, he needed his sonic.

However, when he did open the door to the TARDIS, and checked exactly where his beloved purple coat was, he found himself empty handed. Perhaps, his plan wasn't exactly going to work.

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**Ah yes. Okay. I should probably get back to writing. And doing my homework... Oh well. Okay, please don't forget to REVIEW, FOLLOW, FAVOURITE and PM ME AND THIS STORY IF YOU LOVE IT! (I'll love you forever. Seriously not joking.)**

**~Matteo :33**


	12. Chapter 12

**Whooooo! Updates! So very exciting, I know! I hope you enjoy! And I hope you're liking this story so far! Thank you all for reading this. (Oh and did you know that at this very second, this story has 7916 views?! HOW CRAZY IS THAT!)**

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He didn't know how long it had been, it just felt like a really long while.

He felt like he had searched every corner and crevice for his coat. He felt like he had been walking in circles, which was most likely true because he was inside the TARDIS, and she was always known for her terrible tricks. Especially when it had to do with Clara.

He didn't understand why, but the TARDIS just really didn't like Clara.

Of course, they had grown on each other a little bit with his help, but sometimes he'd catch her doing creatively naughty things to make his companion's experience ghastly. Sometimes, he'd even catch his dear Sexy making Clara's temporary bedroom incredibly small or completely misplacing her bathroom entirely.

It had never been like this with River, or Amy or anyone.

The TARDIS had never completely stopped him, or his companion for that matter, in doing anything. (Even when Amy had attempted to hug him to death, or when River had smothered him with her lips against the wall of the TARDIS right before... Well, you get the idea). But the TARDIS, well, she just didn't like Clara. And he didn't understand why. She was just a companion. Well, she was more than that. But the TARDIS had never stopped him with Rose. And he had really loved Rose.

He entered the control room for the fourth time, nearly tripping over his long legs (again), and slumped to the floor, spreading his limbs out in front of him.

Maybe it was the fact that he had fallen for someone else. Someone who wasn't Rose, someone who wasn't blond. He had lost her, his Rose. It had taken him a long time, but he had gotten over her. Not completely, but enough to try to move on. She had been the love of his life, and he had to give up on her, he had to let her go.

And he had.

But, perhaps, the TARDIS hadn't.

Perhaps the TARDIS disliked Clara because she wasn't Rose.

And she never would be.

But that shouldn't have mattered, right? He loved Clara, and that was final. (Even though he had yet to tell her that he truly did love her). But it clearly wasn't. And only because in order to save Clara, he had to save her and, in order to save her he needed to get his Sonic. And only Sexy knew exactly where to look.

"Sexy?" How was he even going to start this. "May I talk to you?"

She made a noise. _Yes, of course darling_.

He cleared his throat, _lovely plan, Doctor, you love to think things through, don't you_. "Clara. Well, I sort of have a bit of a thing for the dear girl."

_I know._

"And you don't like it, do you?"

_Of course not! She's so short and her skirts are way to high on her thighs. She wears too much makeup and she spends forever in the loo! Her hair is never any good and she's always being all rude in my face! Well, if I had one. But that's not the point. She's basically a living flirt machine. She can't keep her hands off you, and especially in front of me! I can't believe the things you let her do to you. And most of all, what you do to her. She's a human, Doctor. A human!_

"Rose was a human. And so was River."

_Yes, but they were different! They weren't like this 'Clara'. Rose was pretty and blond and she was real. River had lovely hair that jumped about whenever she moved. And I know you loved them! They were kind to you, and they loved you back. Where as this 'Clara' is all fake. All she wants to do is snog you. She called me a SNOG BOX for goodness sake!_

"She did! But we haven't done any snogging in here, have we, Sexy."

_No, you have not, but who's to know when you're going to start?_

The Doctor sighed. "You sound like a mum."

_Well, I am your mum._

_This was taking too long_, The Doctor told himself, _skip the chatter Doctor you have a companion to save!_ "Sexy. Clara is going to die if I don't help her right this instant. And in order to do that, I need my Sonic!"

The TARDIS made a noise. She was upset.

"Please." The Doctor hesitated for a moment. "I love her."

The words echoed around the control room. This had been the first time he had said it aloud. He loved her. He said it again.

"I love Clara Oswald."

There was a brief silence. The TARDIS was clearly thinking it over. She was running the sentence through her engines, though all the rooms in the whole of herself. She was listening to how he said it. She was listening to how the words rolled off his tongue. She was listening, trying to figure out if he was genuine or not.

The time that The Doctor spent sitting on the floor of the control room felt like hours. Days. Years. Longer than he had spent growing older and older in front of The Master. Longer than Rory had waited for Amy in the Pandorica. Longer than Amy had waited for him to return to take her away and show her the stars.

And he held his breath. Not daring to take a wisp of air into his lungs.

This was it. This was the moment of truth. This was the moment when he could save the love of his life, or he could loose her forever.

_Go._

The Doctor did not need to be told twice.

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**Yay! I hope you enjoyed that chapter! And I hope you all are perfectly well enough to REVIEW, FAVOURITE, FOLLOW or PM me and THIS STORY!**

**Oh and thank you to ****sassywriterchick****, ****RandomVictorian****, ****marybearsy**** and ****Planet of the Deaf**** for being amazing! Check them out!**

**~Matteo :33**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hopefully I will have the next chapter in time for Valentines Day (tomorrow). And I hope you enjoy this one. :)**

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When one is trying to save the girl of their dreams from a manipulative, shape-shifting alien from a planet where everyone who goes there dies, one must need a time machine.

And luckily for The Doctor, he had a time machine. Which made it very easy to save the girl of his dreams, the beautiful Clara Oswald.

The Doctor was grinning, be it nervously, but he was indeed grinning. Happy. Ready to save the day, because he always saved the day. Well, not always because Clara had a tendency to save him, so he could save the day, but today was different. He was saving Clara. He was saving the day.

He spun around in the control room, pulling levers and swinging switches. The correct levers and switches, mind you, because he didn't want to mess this up. Well, he hoped they were the right levers, because if not, he could end up in Clara's apartment months or even years after of before this very day. He shook his head, _no, this had to be right_. There was no going back. He only had one shot at this, and this was his shot. The Kiplander wouldn't easily be tricked again.

He started to hear the TARDIS make her strangely soothing wheezing-whooshing sound and knew what was happening. Through space, though not very far, but still through space. The TARDIS, his Sexy, was making the trip so he could make a very dramatic entrance.

Simply because, who doesn't love a dramatic entrance.

He grinned broadly, gripping the TARDIS' control panel as the whole room seemed to spin and twirl. It reminded him of dancing. Dancing with companions. Dancing with Clara. Watching her spin around, her hair whirl around her head. Her red dress or the skirt that was just a little bit too tight, spinning around her gorgeous legs that, even though she thought they made her look little, were truly beautiful. In fact, all of her was beautiful.

He could go on for hours, describing the complexity of the way that her hair curls at it's tips.

He hit the floor with a pang. The TARDIS had stopped spinning, it had stopped moving entirely. He pulled himself to his feet, nearly tripping again and spun a couple times, looking for his sonic. It was in his coat, which he had on.

_Calm down Doctor_, he told himself, hearts pumping erratically.

_Take a deep breath._

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_Okay, you're ready Doctor._

He ran over to the door of the TARDIS and flung it open pointing his Sonic directly across the-wait. This wasn't... Ah. He smacked his lips, looking at the darkly colored wall.

"It seems you're facing the wrong way, Doctor." That senseless Kiplander!

He slid out of the TARDIS, turning the corner and facing the dammed Kiplander, Sonic extended. "I realized that after I saw the purple wall."

The Kiplander chuckled. "What do you have in store this time?"

"Nothing exactly. More or less, what do you have for me? That's in the store. Or the shop. What else do you sell besides answers?" The Doctor walked towards the Kiplander dramatically. Hey, who didn't like a bit of drama here and there?

If Clara was there, she would have laughed and said something along the lines of, "What are you doing, Doctor? You're not in a movie! Stop being so dramatic!" and he would have gasped in surprise and said "What are you saying, Clara Oswald! I can be dramatic! Dramatic is good!" and the two would end up laughing.

Ah, Clara was perfect.

"You would sell the truth." The Doctor was right in front of the Kiplander, who had shrunk in size, finally getting a hold of a murky looking Clara image. It was still a green color, and it was slightly lumpy in all the wrong areas like... No! Focus Doctor, you have to get the real Clara back.

"I've already told you all that you need to know. You just need to figure it out." The Kiplander's voice switched from Clara's to it's regular crisscross of voices and back again.

But, if he really thought about it, what was the Kiplander trying to say? What had The Doctor already seen that made it so easy for him to be fooled. Lets go through the events of how he ended up with The Kiplander's lips upon his, shall we?

He had heard a scream, and he had dashed out to see if Clara was alright. However, when he saw that she was there, he soon realized that it wasn't her. She kissed him, well, the Kiplander kissed him, but he went out like a light. He woke up later and realized that it had been a Kiplander who had sucked him into the trap.

But it had been Clara that screamed.

There was no doubt about it.

Anything could have happened in the time that The Doctor had spent unconscious, but he had a gut feeling that it had taken place before hand. That it had taken place before he had even entered the room.

He knew for sure that Clara had screamed because 'Mr Livesbrook' had done something any normal human being would never had done. In a split second he had become an alien, a type that Clara had never been told about, and never seen, even in all her different lives. And it had done something with her.

Something that was quick and quiet. Something that had been easy to do and was guaranteed to keep Clara still for a long period of time.

He had found the fake Clara standing in the middle of the room, far away from any furniture that it could have possibly hidden his impossible girl behind. It had no materials with it to cover Clara's mouth with, and didn't look like it had rushed to get where it was. The Kiplander had its plan all done up and tied with a bow.

He just had to figure out what it was.

The Doctor could feel the answer staring him in the face.

What was it that the Kiplanders were known for? Killing their victims after capturing them. But, as far as he was concerned, no one ever found the bodies. (Of course, they were all probably captured and killed themselves, before they even had a chance to find whoever they were looking for, but that wasn't the point).

What was the easiest way to get rid of something quickly?

If it was small enough, you could swallow it.

And, for a shape shifter, that would have been quite easy.

"You swallowed her."

There was a brief pause as the Kiplander's mangled face split into a grin.

"Oh some congratulations are certainly in order here I mean-" It stopped, sputtering into silence under The Doctor's glare.

The Doctor didn't move his glare. He was pissed. "You have only a few seconds after I finish talking. I want to know-"

"Don't you always give second chances though, Doctor?" The Kiplander interrupted.

"Not when my companions are involved."

"Not when Clara Oswald is involved." The creature mimicked his voice.

"Especially not when Clara Oswald is involved. In fact, that is the reason," He pulled his Sonic out of his pocket and pointed it at the Kiplander's face. "that you are getting mere seconds to speak."

The Doctor paused for dramatic effect, letting his words sink in to the Kiplander's mind, before continuing. "Firstly, I have a question for you. How much do you know about my future? And secondly, how did you get this information? Of course, I know you and all your fellow Kiplanders are technically advanced, but not this technically advanced. There must be someone you got all this information from."

The Kiplander giggled, clearly knowing much more than it let on. "I'm not allowed to tell you much, Doctor. Plus, what I know could kill you and mess up the time continuum."

"Just tell me!" The Doctor's voice was rising to a shout of fury.

"Tick tock, Doctor." The Kiplander grinned menacingly. "The clock is striking twelve."

The Doctor's breath caught in his throat. Both his hearts skipped a beat. That could mean many things. And all of them bad. Terribly bad. His mind was going so wild that he nearly dropped his Sonic. He almost didn't drive the greenly glowing Sonic into the gooey slime that covered the whole of the Kiplander's body. He almost didn't explode the whole of the creature, sending clumps of toxic green goo all over Clara's apartment.

But he did.

He pushed the thoughts out of his head. He needed to save them for another day. For right now, he had another person to save.

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**Okay, you all know the drill by now! REVIEW, FAVOURITE and FOLLOW this STORY. And PM, FAVOURITE and FOLLOW ME!**

**~Matteo :33**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello Readers!**  
**Sorry This has taken a lot longer than I expected it to take. It's four pages on my actual document and I kept getting side-tracked with spelling, and other stories. This story is at it's climax today, and so I decided to be cool and post it after a lovely editor (ImpossibleClara9) looked over it. She's really cool, and she's British, which makes her like TEN TIMES COOLER. **  
**I wrote most of this listening to Skrillex's Bangarang which is (surprisingly) a very good song to write to. I hope you all like it, and I hope that I find time to write and write and write! I'm so happy that you all have liked this story so much. **

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The Doctor had never really taken into consideration that his impossible girl could ever cease to be impossible.

Of course, he'd had the same thought about his other companions, but Clara was different. She was ever so different. She had lived so many times, so many different lives. She could probably live on forever if she really wanted to. She was his Clara Oswald, and she was born to save The Doctor.

However, when he looked down at the mess of limp limbs, twisted clothing and silky brown hair that was covered green slime that looked nearly a mile thick, he felt uncertain.

He couldn't give up though. He had a duty. He was a doctor (not a medical one, but he'd love to think of it that way) and he had to save her. He was her doctor.

The Doctor stuck his hands through the remnants of goo. It was the most disturbing sensation that he had ever experienced. It felt like old bubblegum, mold-filled and sticky, the type that you didn't want your hand to brush under a school desk, but ended up brushing anyway. Yet, similar to the grime that was left at the top of the TARDIS, when he didn't clean her, almost like friction and static, but absolutely not at the same time. And, the green substance of the once Kiplander was moist.

Terribly moist.

He shuddered, trying not to think about it.

He felt Clara's clothing with the tips of his fingers. He was very lucky his arms were so long. If not, he would have never reached her and died within the gooey remains himself. It would have been so much for being the last Time Lord in existence. His other hand found the collar of her button down shirt. Hopefully he wouldn't completely pull little Clara out of her shirt completely, that would be awfully awkward.

He tugged hard on the collar, eventually pulling her out of the slime. And pulling himself onto his back, on the floor, taking her with him.

So now they were both covered in slime.

He placed a hand on where her pulse would have been, but felt basically nothing. A faint and fading pulse barely even touched his delicate fingertips. His hearts pounded. Oh Clara. Oh his Clara. Don't do this, he thought, not now.

She couldn't. She just couldn't.

If she did... He'd... He didn't know what he would do.

The Doctor bit back some tears that he could feel swelling in his eyes. Not now. Not yet. She wasn't gone. She wasn't gone.

She wasn't gone yet.

He needed to act fast. He needed to act now.

He could hear a little voice in the back of his head. It was unrecognizable. It spoke in a whisper, but it seemed to silence every other thought in his whole head. His whole, Time Lord, space-travel, impossible-girl filled head. _Let the water rain down_. Let it rain down. Water? Water! The water he used to get rid of all the gunk when he first arrived! He needed to get Clara to a shower, and he needed to get her to one fast.

He sat up, pulling the nearly deceased Clara Oswald into his lap, and then into his arms. He carried her human-bridal-style, his long legs jumping over overturned furniture, until he dashed into her rather blandly decorated bathroom. His mind was working very fast, so fast that his limbs could barely keep up.

He had to get Clara in water.

That's the way that he didn't completely perish underneath the weight of the Kiplander's slime. And that's the way she wasn't going to perish either.

He swung Clara over his shoulder, leaning into the curtained shower, turning it on quickly and jumping in. He nearly slipped on the floor, his shoes not gripping onto the surface of the tub bottom. And suddenly-

COLD.

COLD WATER.

He forgot that Earth wasn't quite to the point where all shower water was hot, or at least warm. Gritting his teeth, he felt the water seep through his clothing (first his jacket, then his shirt and then his nicely cut pants). He pulled Clara off his shoulder and stood her in front of him. Her eyes were closed, her mouth was hanging open slightly, her messy hair fell in strange clumps across her shoulders. The top buttons on her blue silk shirt were undone, and the water was seeping through her clothing as well, making the dark blue pencil skirt an even darker blue.

He had to grab her waist so she didn't fall backwards and injure her unconscious self anymore. He pulled her against him, watching the slime fall off her body in fragments. The Doctor pressed a gentle hand to where her pulse would have been, but felt hardly anything.

It wasn't working.

What could he possibly do now?

The Doctor ran his hand through her hair, pulling out more essence of the Kiplander and letting it drip down the drain. The water dripped across her face, sticking to her eyelashes and filing through her hair.

What could he even do?

She was dying. She was leaving him so quickly. He could almost feel the life slipping away from his fingers. Her limited breathing was coming in even shorter occasional gasps. And then it stopped completely.

He could feel the tears start to come again, clouding his vision.

Not yet, not yet!

_Focus!_ Focus Doctor focus! How do you save a life? How do you save Clara Oswald's life? Or, more importantly how do you save Clara Oswald's life, and tell her you love her at the same time?

This could be the last time he could tell her. _I love you Clara Oswald!_

He leaned down carefully, their height differences was sure an issue but it didn't matter. The Doctor was preparing himself, evening out the amount of love he possessed and the feeling of how much he didn't want her to die.

The Doctor was gentle. He had done this before. So many different times, with different people, mind you, but he had done it. But with everyone it was different. Everyone had a certain smell or a certain taste of their lipstick. He could figure out how each individual liked it, how each individual enjoyed to be held.

However, he had never done what he was about to do. He had never kissed someone to their death. Oh, goodness. He could feel his face heating up with the tears that he had been holding back for so long.

If only he could bring her back with a kiss...

If only...

His brain snapped. This had happened before, maybe not with him, but someone had done this before. When he was dying, when he was seriously dying. River. She had brought him back from the near-dead.

With a kiss.

A simple kiss.

That was all he needed to save Clara. A kiss. A kiss of the Time Lords. He had no more time to waste.

He pressed his lips against hers.

His mind went blank. Only one thought floated in the middle of his head. _Please live. For me, just this once. I love you Clara Oswald. Just for me, please live. _

The Doctor could feel the regeneration energy leaving his body. It hurt. It hurt more than he could even imagine anything could ever feel like. More than when he had regenerated last. Part of his heart, was being ripped out of his body. No, his soul. He was loosing part of his soul. He wanted to scream, he wanted to scream until the pain went away.

A lifetime was being lost.

All for a girl.

All for Clara Oswald.

He was loosing a lifetime for her. He would never get it back. Never. Another lost face, another lost memory. The Doctor could feel the tears running down his face as he kissed her. He breathed life back into the girl who he had spent such a long time being saved by.

He opened his eyes to slits, which had previously been clenched tightly, and looked at his Clara. He could see wisps of gold and yellow fly through the air. The energy was slowly surrounding her, fading into his mouth, eyes, nose, fingertips, everything it could reach.

_Live. _

_Live Clara Oswald live!_

The ache in his body was getting stronger. He was loosing more of himself to her. He had to stop. You have to stop Doctor, you're going to loose yourself. You'll be no use to her if you're dead too.

He had to pry his lips off of hers. He felt light headed and his eyesight felt fuzzy. But it was worth it. It was worth it to see a heaving breath of air echo through her lungs.

She was alive.

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**So... I hope you liked that. It was certainly quite a blast to write. I wish I could have finished sooner. Okay, so that is it for now, and I hope you enjoyed it. This is probably the second to last chapter, so if you have any requests to me on another story idea, I will gladly take them. I have two others that I am currently writing, but I will take requests. They might just take awhile to publish. (Sorry about that...)**  
**That is all! Please don't forget to REVIEW, FAVOURITE, and FOLLOW this STORY! And FAVOURITE, FOLLOW and PM ME!**


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